Harry Potter Oneshots Feels Alert
by Ejmcmoon
Summary: A collection of Harry Potter Oneshots. Includes all eras. OC x Character requests are welcome. WARNING: Contains feels. You may need a tissue. NOTE: REQUESTS CLOSED Disclaimer: All rights go to J.K Rowling!
1. Old Rivalries Broken

George walked to the graveyard with tears silently pouring down his face. His other half was gone. Dead. He felt empty. The spark was gone. Never to return again. He walked to his twin's headstome, and froze.

"I-I'm sorry! I'm so...sorry! I w-wish there w-was s-s-something I-I could do! I didn't m-mean for y-you to die! I just wanted to keep my family safe!"

Right beside the grave there was a blonde figure sobbing over his brother's grave.

Draco Malfoy.

He recovered from his shock, and backed away, not wanting to be seen.

"I can't believe it Freddie," he whispered; a fresh wave of tears cascading down his already tear-stained face. "He's here. He came."

Draco Malfoy had come after years of unwavering rivalry. After years of endless pranks and fights and snide comments sent both ways. He was now sobbing over Fred's grave. His cries were filled with guilt, grief, anguish. and remorse. George was astounded. He was touched. He was moved by the amount of courage shown by Malfoy, to come here and pay his respects. To come here and apologixe when no part of Fred''s death had been his fault.

"I-I thought y-you were funny!"

This was the part that shocked George the most. All that time he had though that the twins were funny? The little git had been too proud to admit that he thought his schoolboy enemies were funny. It all made sense the now. The split second jealous looks that Malfoy had given them from time to time. The way his lips twitched slightly every time they made a really funny joke.

The kid had been _amused_.

And yet, he still joined in the Slytherins' sneering every time he saw them. He still acted like he loathed every cell of their body.

He played his part very well.

George wondered if Draco Malfoy had been something more than just a bully. If it was trying to live up to his father's standard that had destroyed him.

Maybe he was more than what he seemed. If not, he certainly wouldn't be there today.

George started to walk away as Draco got up and lay flowers on the grave. It had been an eventful day.

 **17 years later...**

"Dad, I want one!"

While reorganizing the shelves at Weasley Wizard Wheezes George heard an eager voice begging for something. He turned around to see a blonde haired boy pointing at a muggle hair pin, not unlike the one that he and Fred had used while rescuing Harry from the Dursleys many years ago.

The father smiled."Are you sure, Scorpius? You know that's for girls, right?"

"Absolutely!" said the boy excitedly. "I want to see what I can do with it!"

"Well...it's only one Sickle. So I guess we can get it, but don't lose it!"

The boy grinned. "Thanks Dad! You're the best! I'm going to find Mum now!"

The man nodded. "Be careful now."

"I will!"

He smiled. George walked up to him, and tapped his shoulder. He turned around and looked at me.

"Hey, Weasley," he said, smirking. "You're looking sharp today."

"Could say the same to you, Malfoy."

I gestured to the hairpin and whispered in his ear: "They're extremely useful you know."


	2. Harry's Lily

**Sorry if this the formatting one has been screwed up. The website is being incredibly screwy.**

* * *

Petunia watched as four year old Harry waddled over to her with something in his hand. He grinned at her with a cute toothy grin.

"Happy Mother's Day Aunt Petoonwa," he said, holding up the flower in his hand.

It was a lily.

She grabbed the flower and ran inside before anyone could see the tears pouring down her cheeks. She ran up to her bedroom and collapsed onto her bed sobbing, clutching the lily.

"Oh...Lily! I-I'm sorry!"

* * *

 **Flashbacks**

"Tuney! Look at what I made!"

Her five year old sister came running to her. Lily pointed to a snow sculpture. It was glistening. It was like...magic. Petunia gasped.

"Lily, that's beautiful! "Let me take a picture!"

She pulled out a camera and took a picture of Lily posing next to her masterpiece. Lily tackled her and they rolled around in the snow laughing.

"I love you, Tuney."

"I love you too, Lily."

* * *

"Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday dear Petunia! Happy Birthday to you!"

Petunia made a wish and blew out the candles. Everybody cheered and clapped, but Lily was the loudest.

"WHOO! GO, TUNEY!"

Petunia laughed so hard she fell off her chair. Her parents looked like they were about to burst. Petunia saw Lily sneak away in the middle of the commotion. She followed her outside to the garden. There was something surrounded by a curtain and apparently Lily was inside.

"Darn thing! Work!"

She stayed silent, and slowly backed away. It obviously wasn't meant for her eyes.

"Yay! It worked! Tuney! Come over here for a moment, will you?"

Petunia quietly ran away, and then cupped her hands around her mouth.

"Coming!"

She ran back outside. Lily was standing outside the curtain smiling.

"One! Two! Three! SURPRISE!"

Lily opened the curtain to reveal glittering letters etched onto the ground:

HAPPY 10TH BIRTHDAY, TUNEY!

Petunia beamed at her sister. "Lily, I love it!"

They hugged each other and pranced around crowd came to join them outside, and gasped when they saw what Lily had done.

"Wow! That's beautiful, Lily!"

"How did you do that? It's magical!"

"Marie, I think our daughter is a magician!"

But all Petunia could think about was how lucky she was to have Lily as a sister.

* * *

They played in the yard laughing and having fun.

"Tuney?"

"Yes, Lily?" she asked.

"You'll always love me, right?"

Petunia smiled. "Of course, Lily. That's what sisters are for."

"Pinky promise?" Lily asked, holding her pinky.

Petunia did the same. "Pinky promise."

They hugged each other.

"Always."

* * *

 **End of Flashbacks**

"PETUNIA! WE HAVE VISITORS!" yelled Vernon.

Petunia wiped away her tears and composed herself. She looked up at the ceiling.

"I love you, Lily and I'm sorry."

She then walked back outside like nothing had happened.


	3. An Unexpected Trip To Surrey

Severus Snape rarely ventured out of his dark and gloomy home during the summer. When he did, he usually went shopping. Needless to say, this was a major part of the reason he had unusually sallow skin. His days spent in the sunshine were never exciting; they were spent by practicing the same routine. Shop, pay the muggle cashier, and leave. Shop, pay the muggle cashier, and leave. Severus probably had the most boring and bland life during the summer that you could have. Whilst others watched muggle films, and watched their children play in the park, he stayed in his library, lost in the books that were filled with grotesque information, and things that weren't meant for the innocent eye. However, one afternoon was quite eventful, and it would stay etched in his mind forever.

It was a particular rainy day that afternoon. Lightning flashed. Thick, dark thunderclouds blanketed the sky. Most people were staying inside, but Severus saw this as a perfect opportunity to get some fresh air, away from the watchful eye of the neighboring Muggles, who thought him to be strange. But as he walked around the block, he heard a small, desperate cry in the storm.

"Aunt Petunia?! Uncle Vernon?! Somebody! Dudley?! Where am I?!"

Severus looked a few feet ahead of him. A small boy stood in the middle of the pavement, looking around fearfully. Severus instantly felt bad for him. It was never good to be in an unfamiliar place in the middle of a thunderstorm. The boy saw him coming, and looked up hopefully.

"Sir? Do you know where my aunt and uncle are?" he asked politely.

Severus studied the boy closely, and gasped. He had untidy, jet black hair, and green eyes that were framed by glasses that had evidently been broken many times judging by the amount of blue duct tape that was wrapped around them. The boy looked extremely underfed, and his shirt was three times too big for him. The thing that surprised Severus the most was the distinct lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead.

Merlin's Beard...

"How did you get here?"

"I was playing in the garden, and there was this glowing hairbrush," Harry replied, holding out a small brown hairbrush for Severus to see. "I picked it up, and now I'm here."

A Portkey. Severus felt anger bubble in the pit of his stomach. Who in their right mind would put a _Portkey_ in the garden where Harry Potter lived? It was common knowledge in the Wizarding World that the Boy Who Lived was taken to be raised by his aunt and uncle (to the displeasure of many). And yet, here he was, in a raging thunderstorm, bang smack in the middle of some strange place he didn't know.

"I actually need that hairbrush," Severus lied smoothly. "I've been looking for it. Can I have it?"

"Sure," he said, handing Severus the small hairbrush. "Can you help me get home?"

"Where do you live?" Severus asked, not sure where Harry's aunt and uncle lived.

"Surrey."

Great Scott! Surrey? That was all the way across the country! How was he supposed to get the boy home? Severus considered Apparating, but then he remembered that the boy was only six years-old. That was far too young to even Sidelong Apparate, and the boy probably didn't even know about magic! This was going to be a long afternoon. Harry looked at him hopefully, and Severus sighed.

"I'll figure out a way to get you home," he said.

The boy smiled, and Severus felt a twinge of grief as he was reminded of Lily.

"Thank you, sir!" Harry told him happily.

He wracked his brain for a quick way to get to Surrey. Suddenly a thought occurred to him. The Portkey! If it had taken Harry from Surrey to Cokeworth, it could take him back to Surrey. All Severus had to do was make up some excuse about why the Portkey was magical. He examined the hairbrush, and saw that it was starting to glow again.

"Here," he said. "Touch this hairbrush with your finger. We're going home."

Harry obeyed, and within minutes they were standing in a place that Severus recognized as Little Whinging. Dumbledore had shown him a picture in case Harry needed to be checked on.

"This is the place," said Harry. "They live at a couple houses down the row."

Severus nodded, and stowed the Portkey in his pocket. He felt a small hand grip his fingers, and flinched when he realized that Harry was holding his hand. The sensation felt foreign to him.

"Do you want me to walk with you?" he asked.

"Yes please."

They walked down to the house that was labeled "4" and Severus rung the doorbell. A blonde haired woman, whom ( **Is it "who" or "whom"?** ) Severus knew to be Petunia Dursley, answered the door looking very flustered. When she saw him, she pursed her lips.

" _You_ ," she spat.

"I believe this is your nephew," he replied, ignoring her hostile greeting.

She didn't reply, and looked at Harry distastefully. A very large man with no neck at all appeared at the door. He glared at Harry as though the boy was a huge burden.

"Get back into your cupboard, boy!" he ordered.

"Yes, Uncle Vernom!" Harry said quickly, looking at the man fearfully.

Severus felt a surge of anger. A cupboard?! They made the boy sleep in a _cupboard_? How dare they? He leaned down to whisper in Harry's ear, and pulled a toffee out of his pocket.

"Here," he muttered, placing the sweet in Harry's empty hand. "Have this."

Harry looked at the sweet as if it was pure gold. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

The boy grinned broadly.

"Thank you!" He ran into the house, clutching the toffee in his hand.

Severus stared at the Dursleys furiously. They looked at him with a mixture of fear and loathing. Petunia had obviously told her husband about her childhood neighbor.

"We are going to talk," Severus sneered angrily.

 **Meanwhile in the afterlife...**

James and Lily groaned as Harry picked up the glowing hairbrush curiously.

"No Harry!" Lily shouted. "Don't touch that! It's a Portkey!"

They groaned even louder when Harry arrived in Cokeworth. Lily buried her face in her hands.

"Oh, lord," she muttered. "That's Spinner's End. Oh, Merlin."

Suddenly James saw a familiar greasy haired figure walk towards their son. He sighed in relief.

"It's okay, Lils!" he said happily. "Look who's found him!"

Lily looked up, and grinned. "Severus!"

 _"I actually need that hairbrush," Severus lied smoothly. "I've been looking for it. Can I have it?"_

"Good thinking," James commented.

They grinned as Severus took Harry back home to Privet Drive. James made a disparaging noise when Vernom appeared.

 _"Get back into your cupboard, boy!" he ordered._

 _"Yes, Uncle Vernom!" Harry said quickly, looking at the man fearfully._

Lily growled at the mention of the cupboard. James smirked as Severus glared menacingly at the Dursleys.

" _Here," Severus muttered, placing the sweet in Harry's empty hand. "Have this."_

 _Harry looked at the sweet as if it was pure gold. "Are you sure?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _Harry grinned broadly._

 _"Thank you!" He ran into the house, clutching the toffee in his hand._

"Aw!" Lily cooed. "That's so sweet of him!"

James watched his old school enemy with a newfound respected as Severus chewed out the Dursleys for making Harry sleep in a cupboard. At the end, Lily turned to him, smirking.

"Okay! Okay!" James held his hands up in surrender. "Maybe he's not so bad after all!"

 **10 years later...**

Harry staggered back, absolutely shocked. He had just entered Snape's mind.

"That was _you_?" he asked incredulously. "That was you that helped me get home all those years ago?"

"Yes," Snape muttered. "It was me. Why did you want to know?"

"Well," said Harry, feeling sheepish. "I know this sounds silly, but I kept the toffee wrapper that you gave me. In fact, I still have it."

Snape looked shocked. "Why?"

"It was the first sweet I ever had."


	4. Special Award For Being An Arsehole

**Thank you for the good reviews! This one's a bit short, but I hope you like it.**

* * *

Ginny Weasley wasn't happy.

Yes, the Basilisk was dead. Yes, everyone who was Petrified was better again. Yes, Harry and Ron had won Gryffindor the House Cup. Yes, she was grinning so hard her face might crack.

But she wasn't happy.

 _Why?_ you may ask. _Why, Ginny, are you so unhappy when everything is back to normal again?_

Because when she went to admire the Special Awards for Services to the School her older brother and his best friend had won, guess who was right next to them?

 _T.M Riddle._

What he had done to get an award was beyond her. The last time she checked, he had started a war, killed a bunch of people, and was currently aiming to start another war. None of that was f*cking _award-worthy_. The headmaster then must've been drunk on firewhiskey when he gave out that trophy.

Naturally, when she saw this trophy, Ginny burst out in a fit of rage. She threw it across the room. She stepped on it. She burned it. Even sent a few Body-Binds at it (all of which did nothing).

 _This piece of rubbish doesn't deserve to stand next to Harry and Ron's trophies!_ Ginny silently fumed. _The b*stard probably didn't do anything good! Services to the School my arse!_

However, after calming down a bit, she soon realized that her previous treatment of the trophy was wrong. All she needed to do was correct it. And then the great Lord Voldemort would have a trophy for something he actually did.

So after setting the banged up award back on its pedestal, she ran to find Fred and George.

"Hey, boys!" she said, receiving two very affectionate hair ruffles.

"Hey, Ginger Bread-" said George.

"Anything you would-"

"-like us to do?"

"Anything at all-"

"-for our Gin-Gin."

Ginny laughed. "You know those Muggle things called sharpies that Dad always carries around?"

"The ones that Mum is always complaining that he uses 'em on wood and she can never get off properly?" Fred asked.

"Just the one," she replied with a nod. "Where do you think I could find them?"

"Oh, I dunno. Go ask Hermione. She probably has them."

"Sounds like a plan. Thanks!"

"Anytime, Ginny!" the twins chorused.

Hermione was very confused when Ginny asked for Sharpies.

"Couldn't you just use a quill and ink?" she asked. "When they say a Sharpies don't come off, they mean it. Those things are annoying."

A sly grin formed on Ginny's face. "I want this to be a little more _permanent_."

"If you're sure," said Hermione, handing her the marker. "Show me what it is you're doing afterwards, all right?"

"I'll get Colin to take a picture and everything."

Her heart racing with excitement, Ginny rushed back to the trophy room and got to work. She started by carefully burning the part of the trophy that said "Services to the School" and opened the Sharpie. Turns out it was _way_ easier to use than a quill.

After she was done, Ginny stepped back and admired her work. It was perfect.

Tom Riddle now had the Special Award For Being The World's Biggest Arsehole.


	5. The Music Box

**This is a Hinny oneshot I wrote awhile back. It might be a bit too cheesy due to the fact that I was just getting the feel for writing fluff back then, but I hope you like it.**

* * *

Harry sat up abruptly in his bed, cold sweat pouring down his face.

Another nightmare.

His hands were clammy. His heart was pounding. He was shaking all over.

"You alright?"

Harry saw someone standing in the doorway. It was Ginny. She had a candle in her hand, and she was frowning at him.

"Nightmare," he croaked. "It's nothing."

"That's the biggest lie I've ever heard," she said. "Wanna come downstairs? We don't want to wake up little Ronniekins, do we?"

Harry looked over at his best friend, and snickered. Ron was still fast asleep, snoring loudly.

"Yeah, let's go downstairs."

They walked downstairs and sat together at the kitchen table. Harry rubbed his forehead. It stung badly.

"I have them too, you know," said Ginny. "The nightmares."

"Really?" said Harry.

"Yeah," she replied. "They're about the Chamber."

"Oh." He had forgotten about that.

"Yeah." Her face suddenly lit up. "Hey! I have an idea! I'll be right back!"

"Okay," said Harry, feeling a bit curious.

Ginny rushed upstairs and came back down minutes later with a box-like contraption. She grinned. Harry suddenly realized what it was. A music box.

"This is one of Dad's old muggle artifacts that I found at the Burrow," she explained. "When I started having nightmares I put it on every night before I went to sleep. It really helps."

"How do you use it?" asked Harry.

"You twist the knob to wind it up, and then pull on the tiny lever to start the music. It's really quiet, and it stops after awhile."

Harry grinned. "Why don't we try it now?"

"Sure," she said, grinning back at him.

She twisted the knob, pulled gently on the lever, and the music started. Harry was surprised by how gentle and soft it was.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

They sat there in silence for a few minutes, listening to the music. Harry's eyelids began to droop, and soon he was lulled into a dreamless sleep.

"Well, look what we have here."

Harry was jolted awake by the sound of Hermione's voice. He suddenly realized that his hand rested on Ginny's lap, and that her head was leaning on his shoulder. Ginny jerked awake as well, and groaned. She glanced at him, and then jumped away, looking half shocked, half embarrassed. Hermione smirked.

"Good morning, you two," she said.

"Hermione-" Harry began.

"-it was nothing. We swear," said Ginny quickly.

"Oh, I believe you," said Hermione, though the smirk on her face said otherwise.

"I sincerely doubt that," said Harry, his face burning.

"Yeah," said Ginny. "Me too-" She rubbed her neck. "-and not a word to Ron."

Hermione snorted. "Do you _really_ think I would tell him?"

"No."

"That's right," said Hermione. "Now, I'll let you two have some _alone_ time."

"Shut up!" they shouted.

She chuckled, and walked upstairs. Harry looked at Ginny.

"Guess that thing does work," he said. "I haven't slept that well in ages."

"I'm glad," she said, smiling. "You can keep it."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," she replied. "You need it more than I do."

He grinned at the prospect of having no nightmares. "Thanks Ginny."

"Anytime."

Harry and Ginny particularly enjoyed themselves the next day at lunch. Even though Hermione had taken it upon herself to tease them mercilessly, they still enjoyed the brief moments of eye contact and silent laughter that no one else noticed. Obviously Fred and George had picked up on their blossoming friendship because they joined in with Hermione's teasing more than once.

"Oh, look at our Ginger Bread and the Green-Eyed Pillock!" said George, snickering. "Don't they look so cute together!"

"I must agree!" teased Fred.

Ron pretended to vomit into his plate. Harry and Ginny turned pink as they remembered that Valentine's day program that Gilderoy Lockhart had organized in Harry's second year.

"Shut it! Shut it! Shut it!" yelled Ginny, blushing furiously.

"Never, little sis." George grinned whilst Sirius guffawed in the background.

* * *

Harry and Ginny grew closer over the holidays. Ginny became more comfortable around Harry, and didn't blush as much when she saw him. Harry warmed up to her, and told her things that he would never tell Ron and Hermione.

He also discovered that Ginny was a very good listener.

"You know, Ron used to tell me that you never stop talking," he told her one day. "But now I think I'm getting to know the real Ginny."

She smiled. "Don't listen to what Ron says. There are always two sides to a person."

"I'm finding that out now."

Ginny was even caught wearing one of Harry's old jumpers. Though she fervently maintained the idea that she had just found it lying around, everybody knew that Harry had given it to her. On Christmas Day Harry gave her a card that was said to be from, "the Green-Eyed Pillock."

"Oh, I wonder who that could be from," she said sarcastically, her face slowly turning a dark shade of magenta. "It's so hard to guess."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, you really need to improve your deduction skills."

She read it and threw her arms around him in a tight hug. He smiled and hugged her back. A chorus of "aaaaws" could be heard from around the room.

"Thank you, Harry," she whispered. "Thank you."

When she pulled away her eyes were glistening with joyful tears. Everybody stared at her, absolutely flabbergasted. Happy or not, Ginny rarely ever shed tears. What did Harry say to make her so emotional?

"Oh Harry, you've done it now!" said Fred jokingly. "You made her cry! Prepare to face the wrath of the Weasley brothers!"

"Don't even start," said Ginny.

"Don't worry, Ginny! We'll protect you!" Ginny rolled her eyes.

Fred and George jumped on Harry, and they wrestled on the floor. Everyone howled with laughter as they watched the three boys roll around on the floor.

"FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!"

And at the end of the day no one would be surprised to see Harry and Ginny holding hands. And everyone would be delighted to see the old spark back in Harry's eye. The one sign that the boy who had gone into the maze was back.

And to think that it had all been started by something as simple as a music box.


	6. Mandrake Leaves

**A little Marauders oneshot for you guys 'cause who doesn't love those troublemakers?**

* * *

"Ugh, I am _not_ looking forward to the next month, " James groaned.

It was two months into their fifth year and the Marauders were ready to complete the final stage of becoming animagi. Unfortunately this involved holding a mandrake leaf in their mouths for an entire month. Needless to say, none of the boys except Remus were too chuffed about this. After all, _he_ wasn't the one who had to eat with a bitter leaf in his mouth for four weeks straight.

"Well, it's too late to turn back now," said Sirius. "Also, how are we going to communicate while we have the bloody leaves in our mouths?"

"Well, you shouldn't waste paper," Remus decided.

"Yeah, let's be eco-friendly!" Peter agreed.

James ran his fingers through his unruly hair in thought. After a few moments of thinking hard, the bespectacled boy grinned, as if he had a lightbulb moment.

"I have an idea!" he told them all.

"Oh, Merlin," Remus whispered to Peter, "he has an idea. This can't be good."

"Whatever it is," Peter mumbled back, "has to be a better idea than asking Evans out every five seconds."

"I heard that!" James cried. "And we all know she loves me!"

"She hates you," Remus said flatly.

"Nah, she doesn't," Sirius said with a lopsided grin

"Yeah, yeah-" The werewolf rolled his eyes. "-just go do whatever this idea is."

James stuck his tongue out childishly in retaliation. "The things I do for you, Remy."

Roughly fifteen minutes later, he returned with three small chalkboards attached to strings.

"We're doing it the old-fashioned way!" he announced.

"What do you mean 'old fashioned way'?" Peter asked. "I'm pretty sure people before us didn't communicate by writing on chalkboards hung around their necks."

"Yeah, because they didn't want to look stupid. But hey, at least it matches my hair...and my name," Sirius added, earning an elbow in the ribs from Remus. "What?" he asked his best mate. "You know, black as a chalkboard."

"You make the worst puns ever."

"I do not! I am the punmaster of Hogwarts and everyone knows it!"

Remus sighed before turning to James. "Do you even have the chalk?"

"Oh...right."

* * *

For the remainder of the day, the boys practiced going around with the chalkboards on their necks since they were extremely heavy and they would have to get used to the weight. Many people stared at them as they walked through the corridors, which grew to be exceptionally annoying.

"Honestly, do we look _that_ out of place with chalk?" Peter asked irritably at lunch that afternoon.

"Yes," Remus snickered, "you do."

"Shut it, Moony."

"I feel like one of those prisoners in Azkaban," Sirius grumbled. "You know how they have the plaque connected to their chains and the number tattoo. I mean, I'd want a tattoo there...but not _that_ tattoo?"

"Don't worry," Remus assured him. "You won't end up in Azkaban."

"And how would you get put in there, anyway?" said James.

The mischievous glint returned to their best friend's eyes. "For being too handsome!" he replied, flipping his shaggy locks over his shoulder. "Obviously."

"Or for having the biggest head Wizarding Britain has ever seen!" Marlene McKinnon called out from the other end of the table.

"No one asked you, McKinnon!"

* * *

It was time to get the mandrake leaves and it was agreed that Peter would do the job. Unlike the others, who were always thought to be up to something (which they usually were), he could easily pass it off as looking for an opportunity to improve his Herbology skills.

So at the end of Herbology the next day, Peter hung back, nervously biting his fingernails. He had always hated talking to teachers one-on-one and though his friends had helped him become stronger in this area, he was still apprehensive because he didn't want to ruin this for Remus.

"What is it, Pettigrew?" Professor Sprout asked snappishly. The Herbology teacher had been in a particularly foul mood that day. Probably because the cold, frigid January weather had proved to be no help with keeping her plants. Peter had suggested they get the leaves another day, because he didn't want to deal with pissed Professor Sprout, but James and Sirius wanted to get the Mandrake stage over with as soon as possible, and they really couldn't wait any longer.

"Erm...so I've been noticing that my grades aren't that high in Herbology right now," said Peter.

"Very much so."

"And-and my friends helped me come up with this project that might be able to help me improve my skills, but I'd need the supplies," he went on. "Specifically Mandrake leaves."

"And what exactly would this project entail?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow tentatively. Sprout had much reason to be weary; the Marauders could turn anything into trouble-even it was a leaf from a plant whose only harmful trait was their cries.

"I was thinking that I could put 3 leaves in different conditions to see how they fair," Peter explained. "I'd need more than three, though, so I can do different trials and in case I mess up."

In truth, he wanted more than three leaves because if the leaves tasted as bad as he thought they did, he and his friends would go through more than one leaf before they completed the full month. And plus, in order to keep up the lie about his so-called project, he'd needed to show actual results.

The Herbology professor's hard expression softened when she saw that her student was making an effort to improve in his studies. "Of course," she told him kindly. "I'll get those to you after lunch. Just make sure to show me the data after you're done with the experiment."

Peter let out a mental sigh of relief. "Thank you, Professor," he said, before leaving to rejoin his friends.

"So did you get it?" Remus asked eagerly.

"Yeah. I did. She's gonna bring them to me after lunch."

"Yay!" the werewolf said happily. "How'd you do it?"

Peter explained his fib about the whole "project."

"Clever," Remus mused.

"Well, at least we know one thing," Sirius piped, his grey eyes twinkling mischievously.

"And what's that, mate?" Remus asked.

"James' leaf will be covered in dung after a month of surviving its conditions," he said, leering at the bespectacled Potter.

"Shut up, Siri!" James grunted.

"Don't call me that!"

"Not when you still call me Jimmy!"

"You make a good Jimmy!"

"No, I don't!"

* * *

Having a Mandrake leaf in their mouth proved to just as unpleasant as the Marauders had expected it to be. Remus had made sure to research it fully beforehand, but nothing would completely prepare them for the horribly bitter leaf and the consequences that came with it. Eating was now a chore and finding a sleeping position that wouldn't risk them swallowing or spitting out the leaf in the middle of the night was nearly impossible.

Fortunately, finding a cover story to explain why they had basically gone silent for a month wasn't difficult at all. They all decided they were going to do the "Ultimate Silent Game" to win the Sacred Marauders Cup (which was really just a butterbeer bottle with their names on it). Most of the school bought this excuse without question, but Professor McGonagall was not to be fazed.

"And why aren't you part of this 'Ultimate SIlent Game', Mr. Lupin?" she asked.

Remus smiled at his friends fondly. "I'm not a moron," he said.

James traced a line across his neck with his free hand. "You're dead," he mouthed.

"Love you too," Remus mouthed back.

* * *

 _ **Even Sugar Quills taste disgusting,** _ Peter complained one evening.

 ** _That's just sad,_** Sirius wrote.

James looked at Remus pointedly.

"What?" the werewolf sighed.

 _ **The things we do for you, Remy.**_


	7. Four Ways To Handle Grief

**A oneshot about Percy and George after the war. Enjoy!**

* * *

Percy was in despair.

When he chose to return to his family, he expected something better. He expected a bit of anger, maybe some happy tears, and some shock. He expected to experience the moment when he could finally charge at those wretched Death Eaters with every member of his family by his side.

Not this. Anything but this.

After Fred's death, he tried to write a letter to numb the grief. Percy had always had a thing for words. Writing came easy to him and the result was usually well-thought out and elegant, contrary to spoken word, where he would always get flustered or too excited. This happened to be why essays were a strength for him during his school career.

By the end, twelve scrolls of parchment were burning in the fireplace.

Next he tried listening to music. After all, many people found comfort through the lyrics and that was how they got through their grief. But most of the songs he found were either too sappy or they brought him to tears. And the last thing Percy needed was more tears.

So three weeks after the battle, Percy Weasley sat in the Burrow's kitchen, not knowing what the hell he was supposed to do.

It was midnight. Everyone had gone to sleep and surprisingly, it was oddly peaceful that night. For the last few weeks, you could often hear screaming and crying in the late hours. No one discussed it in the morning, though. They didn't need to. They knew why, and they were all too exhausted and broken to bother.

Ginny had taken to calling Harry in the middle of the night with the two way mirror his father and godfather had previously used. Mum always scolded Ginny for this, saying Harry needed his rest, but Percy suspected the Boy Who Lived was having a hard time getting sleep just like the rest of them.

Tonight, though, the only thing you could hear was the ghoul moving around in the attic. That is, until he heard a door suddenly open at around 12:45. Percy sucked in a breath. It sounded like it came from Fred and George's room-well, now just George's room, but George had locked himself in there for three weeks straight, only coming out to get water. It was highly unlikely that he would properly come out now.

And yet, there George was, hair a mess; clothes wrinkled; eyes red and puffy. Perhaps this was another one of his water trips.

"Hey, Perce," he croaked.

"Hey, George," said Percy. "I can get you a cup if you want."

"No," said George, walking over to the pantry to grab a mug, "I'll do it. Dammit, Perce, I need to do something!"

"Like what?"

"Anything," he replied simply. "Anything besides sulking in my room all day. Cooking...cleaning...I dunno."

"I think Mum's cleaned this place to death," Percy told him with a small, tight lipped smile. That was the most anyone in the Burrow could manage these days.

"Classic Mum," George mused. "Never thought I'd ever say this, but maybe I could read. Reading makes you happy, doesn't it?"

"It's relaxing. But you're the one who had to be _dragged_ to the library. Who are you and what have you done with my-?"

As George sat down next to him, Percy finally got a good look at his hair and gasped.

"Your hair is blue!" he said shrilly.

"Oh yeah…" George looked uncomfortable. "About that...I kinda dyed it yesterday. News flash?"

"But _why_? There's never been a Weasley without red hair!"

Percy had never been one to show much family pride, but it was true. There had never been a Weasley without red hair. If you were a Weasley, you had red hair and everyone knew that. Seeing his brother with blue hair shocked Percy. He couldn't even begin to imagine how his mother would react when she saw it.

George was slightly amused by his brother's reaction. "So am I the next door neighbor now that I have blue hair?"

It was meant as a joke, but it only made George sadder when he remembered saying something similar back when Fred was still alive. They had always done their jokes together, but now there was no one there to add onto the fun. "Fred and I" had just become "I".

Percy seemed to notice his despondent look and hastily said, "Of course not. I mean, Harry's practically a Weasley now and he doesn't have red hair."

"True."

"But...erm...why _did_ you do it?"

"Every time I look in the mirror, I see _him_ ," George said bitterly, blinking back unshed tears. "And I ca-can't-it's t-too pain-"

He sobbed.

Percy was unsure of how to comfort his brother. He had never really faced a crying person until after the war. So he tried the one method he thought George might like best: joking around.

"Er-so basically you thought of four ways to handle grief," he began lamely. "Cooking, cleaning, reading, and dyeing your hair blue."

This didn't have the desired effect. George just looked bemused.

"Sorry," Percy said quickly. "That was bad. You can do whatever you want with your hair for whatever reason, but do know that Mum's going to be ballistic when she sees it."

"Who tipped you off, genius?"


End file.
